Drink With Me
by Lotusinthedark
Summary: Hermione and Draco reunite ten years after the Battle of Hogwarts. Both have grown and changed in that time. Neither is the same person anymore. Both find themselves drawn to each other. Neither is prepared for that!
1. Chapter 1

**Chapter One: Ten Years Later**

Draco ran a hand down his face, somewhat exhausted. He smirked slightly as he sat back in his chair, closing the file in front of him. He hadn't expected to feel this satisfied, doing grueling hours of work day after day. But he did. His mother didn't get it. He could do anything, go anywhere- his name and inheritance made certain that he would never need to work a day in his life.

Once the war had ended and Draco had his family name cleared, there had been many who didn't have the same good fortune. Many of his fellow Slytherin had been forced to play along with Voldemort's schemes. Going against the flow would have meant death for themselves and the people they loved. Draco knew this. Hell, he and his mother had grown into that category.

It had taken years, but he has successfully built up a law firm focusing on freeing those in Azkaban who hadn't had a real choice when the Dark Lord returned. So far, he managed to get many of his classmates cleared. Most of them had not been anywhere near as involved as their families, but the Wizarding world held a nasty stigma for Slytherin that wasn't easily washed away. In addition, being the child of a Death Eater was as bad as being one to most people. He put a hand over his left arm self-consciously at that thought. Draco shook his head, refusing to dwell on it.

Tomorrow the final proceedings for the Nott case would begin. It was the last Slytherin student from his era in Hogwarts that was still behind bars. The Nott family had been too involved, too close to the Dark Lord to be easily forgiven. It had taken many years and quite a few heavy handed bribes to find the right memories to demonstrate Theo's innocence. Theo and Draco had met every morning for a round of Wizard's chess for nearly the past decade. Maybe tomorrow could be the last day for that.

Draco stood, stretching and yawning as he flicked his wand to gather his things and close for the night. Tomorrow, he would win another one out of Azkaban. Theo had been locked up too long. It was time. The clock began to chime and he blinked in surprise, wondering how it got so late. The number of hours Draco spent working on cases didn't matter. He felt like he was doing something right- and that made it all worthwhile.

Outside the office was early Autumn. A bite against his cheeks warned of the changing season. Draco was too wired to sleep. For a moment, he considered aparating home to go on a run. He frowned to himself. There was no way he would sleep at all if he did that. Instead, Draco stepped inside a bar, thinking that maybe a drink would help settle his energy before bed.

It was late, and the bar was mostly empty. There were a few drunken businessmen chatting loudly at a table, a couple or two here and there, and a woman sitting at the bar. Draco caught the bartender's eye, and the man called, "Firewhiskey?"

Draco nodded. The barman had become accustomed to Draco's random drop ins here. With the flick of a wand, his drink was poured and floating over to Draco. Then, the bar man disappeared for a moment into the store room behind the bar. Draco caught the drink and took a swallow before deciding where he wanted to sit.

Surprising himself, he found his eyes checking out the woman at the bar. He lowered his drink slowly as he appreciated the opportunity to check her out from behind. Draco couldn't remember the last time he had seen such a classic beauty. Draco sipped his firewhiskey, moving towards the bar while continuing to eye that cute brunette. She wore a well tailored gray business suit and small black heels. A white blouse was tucked into the waist of her pants, and her jacket lay on the stool next to her. Her curly hair was pulled up into a somewhat messy bun. It had been a long time since he had considered approaching a stranger in a bar, and he was surprising himself at the lack of hesitation he felt right now.

As Draco's feet took him closer to her without his permission, another man, clearly inebriated, approached the witch. "How about another drink, lovely?" She clearly told him to leave her alone, shaking her head no. The man frowned, leaning in towards her. "C'mon, now, love, it's just one drink."

Draco rolled his eyes. Trash. What kind of man would push himself on any woman that way?

"I said no, thank you." The woman's voice was cold. There was something familiar about that voice but Draco didn't let himself pause to think about it. The drunk man had staggered back, scowled and tried to throw his drink in her face. Draco had his wand in hand, and the drink vanished before it even came near her.

"I believe she said no." Draco said coldly, taking a threatening step towards the man. There bartender reappeared. "I would suggest you leave before I ask if she'd like to press charges."

The man stumbled out the door as several others began to glare at him warningly, and the bartender had a few colorful words for him as he followed the man outside with the bouncer.

The witch turned around to face him, putting her wand down in front of her as she turned. "You really didn't have… to…" Brown hair, brown eyes, freckles- Draco could not forget that face. He felt his own eyes widen. She stared. "...Draco Malfoy?"

Draco stared right back. Not possible. He put his drink down on the bar, quickly shoving one hand in his pocket with his wand. "...Hermione Granger."

Well, that really was quite a shock! Draco wondered if he should leave now, before she found a reason to fight with him. She'd always been fighting with the people around her- he had never seen the witch stay civil long. Granted, he hadn't helped with that during their time at school.

Unbidden, he recalled how just moments ago he had found this unknown witch attractive. Knowing it was Hermione didn't change that. She did look good. Her skin was fair, cheekbones now providing her face more definition than they had ten years ago. There still lingered a good-natured, innocent look to her face. Draco envied that somewhat. How could anyone survive the war with that intact? She no longer allowed her mane of hair to explode around her head- although the bun didn't look like it tamed her wild curls at all. Draco had already examined her narrow waist and soft curves. He could see the rough gracelessness of childhood had been replaced with a confidence he had never seen in this witch.

Draco felt his mouth go unexpectedly dry as she looked him up and down with that new self-assurance. An eyebrow raised appreciatively on her face as she met his eyes again with a smirk. "You're looking good after ten years."

Draco couldn't withhold the laugh at the absurdity of this situation, of her words! He clenched his fist in his pocket, shaking his head. "That is _not_ the first thing I expected you to say, after all this time."

She rolled her eyes at him. "Yes, well, I never expected _you_, of all people, to stop someone from throwing a drink in my face."

That made him uncomfortable. "Please. No decent man would let that happen." He sipped his drink, turning and resting his back against the bar, leaning on both elbows. "Anyone would have done the same."

"Did you see anyone else walk over here?" Hermione questioned coolly.

Draco paused. No. No one else had bothered to stick their nose into someone else's business. Why had he? Draco looked away from her, internally cringing as the honest answer flitted across his mind. He had wanted to know who this witch was, because he had found her attractive. Well, that was done, and he should have the common sense to walk away now.

But he didn't.

"Are you still spouting all that pureblood, mudblood rubbish?" Hermione questioned quietly.

Draco couldn't contain the wince at her tone. He calmly turned his head back to look at her, expecting to see furious, bitter eyes. _Here it comes. Your chance to put me in my place, you righteous Gryffindor._ Instead, there was a calm curiosity staring him down. Intense, but not hateful. Surprising. More startling was the fact he answered truthfully. "You may not believe me, but I do regret the way I acted as a child. I'm not spouting any of that hate anymore."

"Oh?" She raised an eyebrow at him as though she didn't believe it for a second, eyes flickering across his face, searching for lies. "And who was the last one you called a filthy little mudblood?"

"...you." Draco said quietly, holding her eyes with his own unwaveringly. "Y'know, if you want me to walk away, all you have to do is say so. I told you I regret it. Take it or leave it. I can't change who I was back then."

They fell silent for a moment. Then, Hermione pulled her jacket from the stool, nodding at him to sit. He hesitated only a moment before sitting next to her. She rested a hand against her temple as she spoke, still watching his face carefully. "Congratulations on the Nott case. I know that one took far longer than it should have."

Draco stared at her, caught off guard. She took a sip of a drink in front of her. How did she know about that? "...I haven't won that case yet, final deliberations are tomorrow. Don't count the dragon eggs 'til they crack."

Hermione shrugged, placing down her glass. Her brown eyes examined his face, looking at him as though she were trying to puzzle him out. "Right." She muttered, frowning slightly. "Honestly, where did that arrogance of yours go? It's as good as won. Don't you know that?"

"What I know is that most of the magical community thinks my work is a joke. Setting free those that they'd rather never think about ever again." Draco narrowed his eyes, suddenly suspicious. Was she trying to mock him? "Why bother congratulating me?"

"It's not a joke." Hermione said calmly, ignoring his change of tone. "I think it's rather admirable to stand up for those that would've been left to rot otherwise." She took another sip of her drink, placing her cup down and folding her arms against each other on the bar. It was the first time he noticed a book open in front of her. "Surprised me to learn how you were the one to get the Azkaban Defense Firm started. I never expected that from you."

Of course she had a book with her. And no one had expected this from him. Draco rolled his eyes slightly while turning his body towards her. "How do you know all this?"

Hermione snorted. "Please, I _do_ keep up with the Daily Prophet, Draco." He blinked in surprise. She'd never used his first name. "Don't act so surprised. Your work is constantly making the paper."

He knew that, but he didn't expect her to remember so many details. It felt strange to feel so off balance around her, of all people. "What are you up to these days, Hermione?"

It felt a little strange to call her by that name. Draco took a sip of his drink as she spoke. "Well, for now," She closed her book in front of her, shrugging. "I'm head of the magical research department for the Ministry. I've been employed by different departments over the years since Hogwarts."

"For now? That's a pretty advanced position for anyone in the Ministry." Not much of a surprise, considering her brain, but she was so young to be the head of research. "I'm shocked you didn't end up fighting for elf rights." Draco mused aloud, unable to stop his mouth. "What with your S.P.E.W. campaign at school."

It was her turn to look surprised, dark eyes widening as she looked at him sharply. "How in the world do you remember that?"

"It was unique." Draco shrugged, "I'd never heard of anyone questioning elf rights until then." He sipped his drink again, swirling it a bit before placing it back down. "Granted, I still think most of them want to be what they are, but I don't think many people at Hogwarts even blinked at the idea until you started shoving those badges around the castle."

They fell into a comfortable silence for a few moments. Draco then had a vivid flashback to the Manor, to Bellatrix torturing the woman sitting beside him. Hermione's screams and the smell of her blood invaded his senses, threatening to make him sick. Draco closed his eyes and he clenched the glass tightly in his hands, focusing on the cold drink and the hard bar under his arms, the wooden stool under his body, attempting to ground himself. There was no way he would let himself have a panic attack here. While less frequent than ten years ago, they still snuck up on him when least expected. He needed to leave, but his damn mouth wasn't done.

"I'm glad the war never broke you." Draco said quietly. "You, or your golden trio."

Something changed. He had triggered something. Damn it, he should've just said goodbye and let there be _one_ decent encounter with this witch. "Never broke me?" Hermione repeated, frowning as her features began to darken, voice going cold. "Why did you come over here?"

"You want the honest answer, or a lie?" Draco replied smoothly, tapping a finger against his glass. He turned his head towards her, meeting a pair of fierce brown eyes staring him down. Some things never changed, even after ten years. His senses were coming back to the present, the momentary nightmare fading.

Surprised again, her eyebrows shot up. "Honest." Hermione said immediately, folded arms coming across her chest as she sat up to her full height, darling him to lie. He pulled a few coins from his pocket and threw them on the bar for both of their drinks.

_Oh, you're not going to like this._ "I saw an attractive witch at the bar, and thought I'd ask for her number." Draco downed his drink, putting down his cup on the wood with a soft click. "Didn't realize it was you."

She didn't know how to take that, blinking in surprise, fiery demeanor temporarily lost. Her voice was soft. "...I asked you to be honest."

"I was," Draco replied simply, standing and shoving his hands in his pockets. He let himself take a long, deliberate look at her. His eyes examined her face, trailing along her body as she had done to him earlier. "You're looking good after ten years, too, Hermione."

A blush crept through her cheeks. He smirked. Good. She should know how it felt when someone did that. Maybe it would keep her from doing it to him again.

Draco stared as she lifted a small blue handbag. Hermione flicked it open, returning her book to the bag while pulling out a business card. She clicked it shut as she stood, taking her jacket in hand and tossing it over her shoulder. The brilliant witch took two steps towards him and tucked the card into the front pocket of his shirt, planting her hand lightly on top of it. He could feel the heat of her palm through his shirt, and couldn't deny the sudden thumping of his heart. His mouth went dry again, and he couldn't tear his eyes away from hers.

Draco had seen Hermione Granger look at him with coldness, in anger, fury, with tears- but he had never seen her look at him with a playful, amused warmth. He liked that. He liked that much more than he expected.

"I like honest answers." Hermione said, with an almost shy smile, pulling her hand away slowly. "...goodnight, Draco."

He nodded in return, unable to form words with her unexpectedly sexy response. Draco enjoyed watching her turn and leave the bar. He blinked slightly in confusion, placing a hand over the card against his chest. His heart still raced.

_What in the seven hells just happened?!_


	2. Chapter 2

**Chapter Two: One Hour Earlier**

Hermione stepped out into the circular room, closing her door. All the walls began to rotate as she walked across the eerily silent hall. Her eyes always lingered on the places where she, Harry, Ron, Neville, Ginny and Luna had once fled and fought for their lives. Hermione held her breath while crossing the room, echoes of that night lingering in her mind's eye.

She never expected to be on the path of an Unspeakable. Part of her was horrified at the very thought. Another side of her was hooked, and she knew it. There was so much more to magic than the library of Hogwarts could share. Researching in the Department of Mysteries challenged her mind in a new light. She needed the challenge- craved it, even. Rising to the head of magical research was merely a tiptoe away from an Unspeakable, and she knew that another job offer was coming soon.

Hermione exhaled shakily, silently, as she did everytime she made it to the exit door. The ghosts of the war never faded in this place for her. Her heels clicked softly against the marble, echoing around her, as she made her way towards the fireplaces in the atrium.

Her mind wandered to consider her decade in the Ministry as she buttoned her coat. It had been an adventure. She fought for elf rights, and things had improved, but the bottom line was that most of them didn't _want_ freedom. Five years of pushing through regulation and red tape had helped. New elf laws majorly improved their quality of life, but it had reached a standstill. To that end, Hermione had convinced Winky to take up a position in the Ministry to speak out for what the house elves wanted. It had taken a _lot _of convincing, nearly two years, but Hermione had found the path. Winky working in the Ministry was only possible because the elf believed by doing so, she was honoring her late Master.

Winky asked for such simple things for elves, that it was almost laughable. However, the house elves responded positively to her. They trusted Winky now, to represent what _they_ wanted. Their requests were so humble it was startling to think how long they had gone without decent treatment.

Hermione paused in front of the massive fireplace, glowing green flames dancing before her eyes. Home? She didn't want to go home yet… Hermione stepped into the flames, calling "Diagon Alley!"

The spinning flames of the fire always reminded her of the one year she spent fighting for Dragon rights after the elves. However, one conversation about it with Charlie, and he'd known the perfect person in Romania to take on the project. Hermione didn't know enough about Dragons to reasonably refuse an expert taking it over.

Hermione exhaled softly as she landed on both feet in Diagon Alley. She shivered, clutching her coat tighter around her neck, wishing she'd remembered her scarf. A sudden cool Autumn breeze sent her hair flying about her face. She had forgotten to tie it up before leaving the office. That didn't matter. The bar was nearby, and it would be would be warmer there. Hermione moved quickly to get there, sighing in relief as she stepped through the door.

It was a quiet bar, always peaceful and warm. A good place for her to think, or write or read. She had stumbled across it years ago, when she had first let go of the house elf project. Anytime her mind needed some processing time, she would come here.

The barman saw her enter and gave her a grin with a wave. Justin Finch-Fletchley had a mop of tightly curled brown hair. He waved his hands at an open seat in front of him. Light bounced off his fingers with the motion. He wore a ring on both his hands with a Hufflepuff badger stamped on the top. Hermione knew his initials were on the underside of one, and Erinie's were on the other. She waved back before Justin vanished for a quick moment to get her a drink.

Hermione unbuttoned and tugged off her jacket while she moved towards the bar stool. Then, she rummaged out a hair tie from her bag, along with her notebook and pen. She put the book down in front of her, settling her jacket on the stool to her right. Her fingers quickly pulled her hair up into a somewhat messy bun as Justin returned.

The cheerful barkeep appeared, placing a cup down in front of her. Then he stood back, pressing both hands down against the bar. His smile was kind. "How's it going, Hermione?"

She smiled, putting her elbows down on the counter, hands under her chin. "It's alright, Justin. How about you?"

The man tapped the bar with both hands, looking around his bar. "Things here are good, things at home are great, and I don't have much to complain about." He leaned forward, crossing his forearms down on the bar to meet her eyes with greater intensity. "You, on the other hand, only seem to show up when you need a break. So let me ask again- how's it going, Hermione?"

Alright, she had a habit. He knew it. She came here to talk to him, or write. Hermione laughed, putting her hands down to tap her journal with her pen. Justin's eyes flickered to it and back to hers, nodding. "Oh, it's that kind of night, then? I'll try to keep the barflys away from you." He stood straight, giving her another grin before heading towards the new arrivals at the other end of the bar. "Let me know when you want another drink."

Hermione nodded, taking a sip of her drink. She was a little anxious, to be honest. Another new job. Another new set of responsibilities. It wasn't easy for her to change. She got into routines, she became invested where she was, and with the projects she took on. Not to mention, the path of an Unspeakable could take her out into the field like the Auror's. Her mind drifted again while opening her journal, thinking back to the last time she'd shifted gears at the Ministry. Her hand tapped the pen against the page absentmindedly as she stared at the blank page.

That Dragon position had only been one year. Percy had been the most pleased to hear that she'd let the Dragon project go, and he had immediately jumped in to request that she replace him for one year while he took a sabbatical for training. Hermione had spent one year as Kingsley's assistant. Kingsley knew she would be looking for another position after Percy returned, and he had been the one to nudge her towards the Department of Mysteries.

That was when she had found herself drawn, magnetically, towards those research rooms. Part of her dreaded it. Every day she walked through that circular chamber, she remembered the chase with the Death Eaters. Every. Damn. Day. It probably meant she wasn't healing. It probably wasn't a good idea to be there. But Hermione refused to allow the past to control her, or keep her away from the millions of books she had never seen.

Rapidly, one thing let to another, promotion after promotion. She loved reading, and the amount of information in those books was beyond measure. Three years and she had made it this far. It was incredible.

It also still wasn't enough. Kingsley wanted her doing research, but he also wanted her out in the field. She didn't want to be there. Traveling with Harry and Ron, searching for Horcruxes, had been more than enough. Still, Kingsley had begun hinting, dropping little comments, sticking his nose into the work she was doing. She knew this game by now. That only happened when he was about to offer her a position. Hermione just couldn't figure out what it might be this time. He knew she didn't _want _to be an Unspeakable. That thread of research could lead to dark and darker magic. Researching Horcruxes while chasing Voldemort had been foul. The hair on the back of her neck stood up as she saw those pages again in her mind's eye. This wasn't something she wanted to think about anymore.

Hermione distracted herself by checking her cell phone briefly. Harry wanted to do drinks with her and Ron sometime this week. Ron had said hell yes, and a list of times he could do. Hermione grinned and sent a quick list of her availability. It would be good to see them. Harry was working hard as an Auror, and Ginny was running the shop with George. She had saved their business after Fred had died. It really was a two man operation. Ron's times were always limited. Ever since Ron and Susan had the twins he'd had his hands full. Hermione and Ron had both agreed, just after the end of the war, that what they had started wouldn't last. They had both felt it, and there had been no hard feelings between them. A year later, Ron had gone on a blind date with Susan Bones. They had clicked. Their wedding had been the first of the Wesley family after the war, and Molly Wesley had a field day preparing the burrow. Several years later, the twins were born. Something about Ron had changed that day, for the better. He was a fantastic father.

Hermione lifted her pen, scribbling a few lines with the day's date. After that, she let her mind wander, hand gliding across the pages of her journal, pausing only to take another sip of her drink. Her journaling had begun after the war, too. It was a form of therapy that she never knew she needed. It was freeing... the ability to turn off her mind for a little while. She didn't want to think. A good drink, pen and her book made that a reality.

She lost track of time. It always happened that way, here. Most nights she came in to write, she could sit here for hours. She sipped the last of her drink, and her bartending friend immediately placed a new one at her elbow.

The door opened and a burst of cold air ruffled her hair. Hermione glanced at Justin as he looked over her shoulder as the door opened. "Firewhiskey?" He called to the newcomer. Must be another regular. She quietly thanked him for the drink before taking a sip. Justin gave a nod and poured a drink, sending it towards the door. Then, he vanished behind the bar.

Hemione had a few moments of pace, savoring the stillness around her, the taste of the drink. She felt someone invading her personal space. Trying to remain relaxed, she ignored the sensation.

A man, clearly inebriated, approached her from the side, confirming her suspicion. He smelled like alcohol. Hermione wrinkled her nose in distaste. "How about another drink, lovely?" She shook her head no, trying to ignore him.

The man frowned, leaning in towards her. Gods his breath was foul. She placed her pen down, silently summoning her wand. It took the place of her pen. The man was too drunk to notice. "C'mon, now, love, it's just one drink."

Where was Justin? He wouldn't tolerate this, if he was around to see it.

"I said no, thank you." Hermione spoke coolly. The drunk man staggered back, lifting his glass to throw his drink in her face. Hermione was about to evanesco the liquid away, when someone else did it for her.

"I believe she said no." A man spoke icily. She heard the sharp click of a man's dress shoes behind her. "I would suggest you leave before I ask if she'd like to press charges."

Justin looked pissed when he reappeared. The man stumbled out the door as several others began to glare at him warningly. He gave a quick nod to the bouncer across the room, and the two of them escorted the drunk outside.

Hemione turned around to face the stranger that had helped her, wand lowering back down to her book. "You really didn't have… to…" Her eyes shot open. White blonde hair, cool silver eyes- she would never forget that face. She stared. "...Draco Malfoy?"

Draco stared right back, his eyes widening, shoving his wand in his pocket. "...Hermione Granger."

This wasn't possible. Why would he help her? To be fair, he seemed just as caught off guard as she was, at least for the moment. Hemione cursed Ginny in her brain she looked him up and down. Ginny had always said Draco was easy on the eyes, and Hermine had never taken the time to notice, until now. Ginny was right. An eyebrow raised appreciatively on her face and she smirked. "You're looking good after ten years."

Draco laughed, shaking his head. "That is _not_ the first thing I expected you to say, after all this time."

She rolled her eyes at him. "Yes, well, I never expected _you_, of all people, to stop someone from throwing a drink in my face."

His eyes flickered. Did that insult him? "Please. No decent man would let that happen." He sipped his drink, turning and resting his back against the bar, leaning on both elbows. "Anyone would have done the same."

"Did you see anyone else walk over here?" Hermione questioned coolly.

Draco looked away from her, silent. Hemione fell silent for a moment, too, wondering why he had interfered. Had he changed? "Are you still spouting all that pureblood, mudblood rubbish?" Hermione questioned quietly.

Draco winced before calmly turning his head back to look at her. At first, his eyes looked dark, but meeting her face gave him pause. His eyes relaxed just before he spoke. "You may not believe me, but I do regret the way I acted as a child. I'm not spouting any of that hate anymore."

"Oh?" She raised an eyebrow at him, searching for lies. "And who was the last one you called a filthy little mudblood?"

"...you." Draco said quietly, holding her eyes with his own unwaveringly. _God those are beautiful eyes._ "Y'know, if you want me to walk away, all you have to do is say so. I told you I regret it. Take it or leave it. I can't change who I was back then."

They fell silent for a moment. Hermione pulled her jacket from the stool, nodding at him to sit. He hesitated only a moment before sitting next to her. She rested a hand against her temple as she spoke, still watching his face carefully. "Congratulations on the Nott case. I know that one took far longer than it should have."

Draco stared at her, caught off guard again. She took a sip of a drink in front of her. It was kind of fun to see him off balance. "...I haven't won that case yet, final deliberations are tomorrow. Don't count the dragon eggs 'til they crack."

Hermione shrugged, placing down her glass. Her brown eyes examined his face, trying to puzzle him out. Was this really the same boy that had tormented her through school? "Right." She muttered, frowning slightly. "Honestly, where did that arrogance of yours go? It's as good as won. Don't you know that?"

"What I know is that most of the magical community thinks my work is a joke. Setting free those that they'd rather never think about ever again." Draco narrowed his eyes suspiciously. "Why bother congratulating me?"

"It's not a joke." Hermione said calmly, ignoring his change of tone. "I think it's rather admirable to stand up for those that would've been left to rot otherwise." She took another sip of her drink, placing her cup down and folding her arms against each other on the bar. "Surprised me to learn how you were the one to get the Azkaban Defense Firm started. I never expected that from you."

Draco grit his teeth and rolled his eyes slightly while turning his body towards her. "How do you know all this?"

Hermione snorted. "Please, I _do_ keep up with the Daily Prophet, Draco." He blinked in surprise. In that instant, she realized she'd never used his first name. That felt a little strange. Trying to brush it off, she continued. "Don't act so surprised. Your work is constantly making the paper."

He was uncomfortable with that compliment, and his change of subject confirmed it. "What are you up to these days, Hermione?"

Her heart did something strange in her chest. Now that was very odd. He had never used her name before, either. Why did it feel so strange? "Well, for now," She closed her book in front of her, shrugging. "I'm head of the magical research department for the Ministry. I've been employed by different departments over the years since Hogwarts."

"For now? That's a pretty advanced position for anyone in the Ministry. I'm shocked you didn't end up fighting for elf rights." Draco mused aloud. "What with your S.P.E.W. campaign at school."

That tightness in her chest pulsed again, eyes widening as she looked at him sharply. "How in the world do you remember _that_?"

"It was unique." Draco shrugged, "I'd never heard of anyone questioning elf rights until then." He sipped his drink again, swirling it a bit before placing it back down. "Granted, I still think most of them want to be what they are, but I don't think many people at Hogwarts even blinked at the idea until you started shoving those badges around the castle."

They fell into a comfortable silence for a few moments. Hermione took a few deep breaths. She recognized the tightness, now- she was attracted to him. Damn it. Damn him. Damn Ginny. Damn that red headed woman! It was all her fault! Hermione never would have found him attractive if Ginny hadn't put those thoughts in her head… would she?

Draco suddenly closed his eyes and he clenched the glass tightly in his hands. "I'm glad the war never broke you." He said quietly. "You, or your golden trio."

Her breath caught in her throat. Where had that come from? "Never broke me?" Fuck, she didn't want to think anymore about the war tonight. Those words sent a few hideous memories crawling awake. She beat then back down, frowning as her features began to darken, voice going cold. "Why did you come over here?"

"You want the honest answer, or a lie?" Draco replied smoothly, tapping a finger against his glass. He turned his head towards her. Those eyes were being open and honest. That was a look. She'd never seen that look.

Surprised again, her eyebrows shot up. "Honest." Hermione said immediately, folded arms coming across her chest as she sat up to her full height, darling him to lie. He pulled a few coins from his pocket and threw them on the bar for both of their drinks. Before she could protest, he was speaking, and she forgot all about the drink.

"I saw an attractive witch at the bar, and thought I'd ask for her number." Hermine felt her heart pulse and flutter in her chest at those words. Draco downed his drink, putting down his cup on the wood with a soft click. "Didn't realize it was you."

What? _What?!_ Hermione stared at him, blinking in surprise, feeling a little lost. Her voice was soft. "...I asked you to be honest."

"I was," Draco replied simply, standing and shoving his hands in his pockets. His eyes examined her face, trailing along her body as she had done to him earlier. "You're looking good after ten years, too, Hermione."

Now _that_ was something. Hemione couldn't contain the blush that crept through her cheeks. At least now she knew she wasn't alone in this strange feeling of attraction. She didn't let herself think about what she was doing, next.

Draco stared as she lifted a small blue handbag. Hermione flicked it open, returning her book to the bag while pulling out a business card. She clicked it shut as she stood, taking her jacket in hand and tossing it over her shoulder.

Hemione took two steps towards him and tucked the card into the front pocket of his shirt, planting her hand lightly on top of it. Hemione could feel the sudden thumping of his heart, the heat against her hand. Draco looked frozen in place, and he couldn't tear his eyes away from hers.

Hermione had seen Draco look at her with revulsion, hate- but she had _never_ seen him look at her like he wanted her, never touched him. She'd never felt the warmth of his skin like this, though his shirt, under her hand. She liked that. She liked that much more than she expected.

"I like honest answers." Hermione said, with an almost shy smile, pulling her hand away slowly. She also liked the feeling of her hand on his chest, but she wasn't about to say that! "...goodnight, Draco."

The silver haired man nodded silently in return. Hemione walked across the bar and stepped outside, where Justin was grinning like a fool at her. She flushed red as he gave her a double thumbs up before strolling back in his bar. Had he been watching them the whole time? She felt her heart pounding as she apparated home as quickly as she could.

Hemione couldn't believe it. She appeared in the doorway of her apartment, leaning against the wall, bringing a hand to her lips. Her eyes still saw Draco's face. She replayed that moment over and over again in her head, then groaned, texting Ginny.

_Ginny… you were right. He is easy on the eyes._

Seconds later, a reply dinged back. _He is? Who is? Which one?_

_Draco. I may have just given him my number._

Hermione kicked off her shoes and hurried up the stairs to her living room. The fire flared green and in moments, Ginny Weasley was strolling out of the fireplace with wine glasses and a bottle of wine in hand.

"Story time!" She explained brightly, waving her wand at the bottle. It uncorked and poured into the two glasses as Ginny flopped down on her couch. "What in the seven hells just happened?!"

"How did you get here so fast?" Hemione asked, somewhat awed as she took her glass and sat on the couch by her friend.

"Do you know how many blokes you've given your number to?" Ginny replied simply, with a raised eyebrow. Hermione hesitated, thinking. Ginny waved her hand, not waiting for an answer. "None! And you think I'm gonna use this thing to hear about it?" She lifted her phone and waved it at Hermione, then shook her head no. Ginny hunkered down on the couch, eyes glittering. "Story time! Tell me how you finally noticed those sexy eyes."


	3. Chapter 3

Chapter Three: Trial by fire

Draco sat at his desk in the office, twirling a quill between his fingers. It was just past sunrise. He hadn't slept well at all. At some point he had given up and come into work. He figured he'd spend some time going over everything one last time. Besides, between his nerves for this case ending, and his run in with Hermione, he'd been too anxious to lay down and close his eyes properly.

Theo's case wasn't as tight as the press made it seem. He'd done several things, by choice, and not by force. The veritaserum interview that had never been leaked proved that. Theo agreed to that interview in the first year of confinement. It had been a miracle Theo hadn't been sentenced to life immediately, or worse. He had done terrible things in order to make sure he and his family survived. The main theme of those choices were that Theo would have been forced to do worse things if he hadn't chosen to do the less terrible things. Unfortunately, most of those that could provide that evidence through testimony or memory were either dead or worse.

Finding proof had taken Draco years of careful research and prodding. Theo was guilty of many crimes, but murder wasn't among them. Draco finally dug up one important memory- one of the muggles Theo had been forced to kidnap and torture. Theo was ordered to execute that muggle by his Father. In reality, he had enchanted them into a deep sleep that mimicked death. That breakthrough led to several others. It didn't absolve Theo from the kidnapping or torture, but it did prove that he wasn't the same monster as many of the other Death Eaters.

If only Dumbledore were still alive, he'd have seen to it that none of this had happened to Theo. He would've understood, and believed it. If only. That thought made Draco feel somewhat numb.

Absentmindedly, he placed the quill down and moments later found that Hemione's business card had replaced the quill between his fingers.

Draco paused when he realized what he had done. That had been a strange meeting. He hadn't expected her to easily accept he used a cellphone. He had almost been ready for her to laugh in his face. Once more, he glanced at the mobile on his desk. They were muggle devices that had become a useful tool for interesting their societies. He almost reached out to text her…but hesitated. What would he say? The long night awake had thrown several possibilities at him. At first he had thought about asking if she'd made it home safely, but then he spent too long thinking about that and it would've been strange to get that message so much later. Then he'd thought about asking her out for coffee or tea around two am, and realized it was two am. Then he'd decided to wait until she contacted him first, to realize he hadn't given her his number.

He cursed, throwing her card down, taking the mobile phone in hand and shoving it in his pocket. Draco stood while running his hands through his hair, then straightened his collar. This wasn't what he needed today, he needed to stay sharp and focused. Draco glanced one more time at his desk to make sure he had everything, then hesitated. He reached down and took her card back, tucking it into his shirt pocket, heart pounding slightly as he recalled the sensation of her hand against his chest.

Maybe that memory would bring him good luck today in court. At least, that was how he was going to justify having her card in his pocket today. A good luck charm. That was all.

Draco picked up a bag with the Wizarding chess board. It was time to meet up with Theo. Today would end this case, one way or the other. He apparated to the entrance of Azkaban. Guards greeted him curtly. That was fine. He was accustomed to their cool greetings. Most of the Wizarding world treated him the same way once he had begun this business.

He handed over his wand at the security desk, signing in and letting them examine the bag with the chess board. After a few minutes, he was led to the holding cell where he and Theo had met every morning for chess for nearly the past decade.

It would be their last game here, that was certain. Walking through these grim halls was much easier now that the Dementors had been banished. The door to the sterile holding cell creaked as it opened. Theo greeted him with his usual grin and nod. Today he wore a formal set of black Wizarding robes, similar to what Draco wore.

How had he managed to maintain that cheerful, collected facade? The thought hit Draco as he sat down, pulling out the game board. It was the same way he had gotten this far. Purebloods were well trained in keeping a game face. He had his, cold, aloof, collected. Theo had his own- charming, cheerful, polite. Would they both be able to maintain their masks today?

They began their game in silence. That silence, and the perfection of their chosen facade, spoke volumes. Draco glanced at Theo's eyes as they played. He was making careless mistakes in the game. Theo was nervous. That smile and playful glitter in his eye betrayed none of it. Draco waited too long for his turn. Theo met his gaze and gave a slight raise of an eyebrow. "Something to say?" Theo asked calmly.

"We talked about this." Draco said quietly, breaking eye contact to move his Knight on the board. "Did you write your letters, in case this goes poorly for you today?"

Theo sighed and reached into his jacket pocket and took out an envelope, passing it across the table to Draco before moving his own Knight in response. "Cheerful as ever, I see."

"Realistic." Draco commented dryly, checkmating Theo's King. "I'd be happy to make this the last game you lose due to lack of concentration."

Theo swore softly with a soft grin as the board reset itself. "Can you blame me? If this goes against me…" Theo's hand shook just slightly as he made the first move. His facial mask was locked into place, though. "Well, it'll be the last time I play this game at all, if that happens."

Draco fell silent. False hope, empty reassurances, those were not things he could provide. The fact was, if Theo lost today, he'd be given the Dementor's Kiss. The Ministry only used the creatures for that purpose now. One would be summoned in a chamber with Theo, and then…

Draco banished the image from his mind. If it came down to it, he'd stand there. He would watch it happen, and he would arrange necessary hospitalization for Theo's body. Until the final decision was made, he refused to entertain that possibility.

Theo and Draco both blocked out the thoughts and focused on this final game. It was tight, and the concentration they both put into the game nearly made them forget where they were, why they were doing this. Two things did that for them both. Flying, and chess. It had always been this way. Until Draco had taken Theo's case, he had never truly realized how good of a friend Theo was to him. As Theo checkmated him for the last time in this holding cell, Draco felt a spike of pain at the mere thought of losing him. He banished that away, too.

The guards entered. It was time, then. Draco nodded at Theo as they both stood. Theo returned the nod and put his hands in his pockets. The guards walked him out. Draco packed the board, tucking Theo's letters safely inside, and returned to the exit. He retrieved his wand.

Draco glanced at the long hallway he had just exited, for the last time. Theo was there last one he had to defend from the war. No matter what happened today, it was the last time he would ever walk through these halls. That was a strange realization.

He stepped outside of the prison to apparate back to his office. Draco placed the bag down at his desk, feeling numb. He always felt this way before a final verdict. Ignoring the empty sensation, he turned on the spot to appear at the front of the Ministry. His entrance caused a silence to ripple outward. The sound of his shoes clicking on the marble floor became more pronounced as others registered his presence and froze. Draco ignored all of them. He didn't care what they thought, or why they fell so silent.

Part of him knew why. His arm seemed to burn under the accusing stares. Draco was one of the few marked who walked free. Dumbledore was a huge part of that. He had placed a case of memories in his Gringotts vault before his death. Their recovery had demonstrated Draco's reluctance to go with Voldemort's plans, and his innocence in Dumbledore's eyes. How that Wizard had known so much, Draco would never know. It didn't matter now. Fact was, he was free thanks to the man he'd aided in murdering. That was part of the reason why Draco had started fighting for the other students that had been caught in the crossfire of their parents, their own lives, and the Death Eaters. Dumbledore wouldn't have wanted so many of his students' souls ripped away. He wouldn't have wanted any of that.

Draco cleared his mind with a deep breath, entering the circular courtroom. He walked to his place up at the front row, standing tall and calm, facing the doors he'd entered from moments ago. The audience silenced at his entrance. Draco never left time for reporters in his coming and going here. Any second now, the final judge would appear.

Sure enough, Kingsley Shacklebolt himself soon stepped through the doors before him, striding to his place front and center. The intense, powerful aura of his existence entered the room with him. It made the hair on the back of Draco's neck stand up. Shacklebolt was an intimidating man. He was also fair, just and without cruelty. No matter what happened today, Draco could believe that Shacklebolt's verdict would be based on facts and evidence, nothing more, nothing less.

The Minister nodded to the room. Everyone sat. Draco remained sitting tall, emotionless, as the doors behind him opened and Theo entered. Neither of them looked at each other. Kingsley waited for Theo to take his place at the stand up front before he spoke.

"Theodore Nott." Kingsley began in his deep, regal tone. Draco felt his heart pounding against his ribcage. "Are you prepared for the verdict of the Wizengamot?"

Theo silently bowed his head in a wordless affirmation. Draco grit his teeth together. Kingsley was never one to drag things out. The Minister unrolled a sheet of parchment.

"This Wizengamot finds you, Theodore Nott, innocent of the crimes that would call for your soul. You are found guilty and accountable for three years of reformative service to the Muggle world-"

The rest of the verdict couldn't be heard. The court exploded all around then with shouts and jeers. Kingsley rolled up the parchment and handed it to Draco, who took it slowly, feeling shocked. Innocent. He couldn't stop staring at the parchment as he slowly took it in his hand as the deep voice spoke directly to him. "I suggest you remove your client from this courtroom, immediately. His personal items and wand have already been sent to your office."

A heavy hand clasped his shoulder as Draco nodded in stunned silence, finally meeting the Minister's eyes. He looked tired, but there was something more there. Pride? Respect? Whatever it was, Draco couldn't puzzle it out. Kingsley spoke in a lower tone. "...you did good work, Draco Malfoy. Expect an owl from me within the next few days."

Kingsley then patted his shoulder firmly, releasing Draco as he strode from the room, press rushing towards him. Draco managed to get to Theo and apparated away before they swarmed down towards them.

Theo wavered alarmingly when they landed. Draco quickly caught his friend and led him to the leather couch against his office wall. Theo sunk down, collapsing and barely managing to catch himself, elbows on his thighs, face buried in his shaking hands. Draco turned away, flicking his wand at the liquor cabinet, he flickered his wand to pour them both a glass of his strongest firewhiskey. He collapsed into his own chair after pulling off his formal robe and unbuttoning his collar. His own unsteady hand went through his hair, holding the locks tightly before catching the floating glass in his other hand. Draco leaned hard against his elbow, slouching in his chair with heavy relief.

They were both silent and unmoving for a long time. Draco closed his eyes, replaying the moment Kingsley had announced Theo's innocence. The relief that flooded Draco's chest had been unexpected. There weren't many cases Draco had lost, but this one had been the most precarious, uncertain of them all. It was why he had delayed a final verdict for years, hunting down more evidence. Theo had been the one to make this call, ask for judgement. He had become tired of waiting in that empty cell.

"...what do I do now?" Theo asked quietly from his couch. "I never thought… that they'd find me innocent…"

Draco took a long sip of his drink before replying. "I've got an apartment ready for you. You've still got access to your family funds in Gringotts. I've got all the paperwork you need ready to sign. It's more than enough to-"

Theo laughed, a dry, broken, hollow sound that silenced Draco. "You know what I meant. I don't deserve this."

He understood. Theo was guilty of the crimes he had committed during the war. He had caused harm to many innocents, and they both knew it. What did he do now, that he was going to integrate back into the real world? How did he move forward now? When would it feel normal? Draco knew the questions. He pondered many himself. How did he cope with the guilt? How did he reconcile his freedom, with the fact that he deserved to be punished?

"Theo, you'll have to figure out." Draco said quietly. "...just like the rest of us."

Theo took the drink floating by his hand and downed it in a single gulp. Draco refilled it with a flick of his wrist. They sat in silence until Theo finally stood, walking to the desk and placing his glass down with a soft clink. Draco sat up straight as Theo took the chair in front of him, nodding at the verdict from Kingsley. "So… what does the rest of it say?"

Draco unrolled the parchment, scanning through the legal jargon to make sense of it. "Three years of service with the Muggles, a weekly check in with an Auror, no dark magic or you'll end up back in Azkaban. Fairly standard release, honestly." It was a bit lenient, in Draco's experience, but that must have been purposefully done. Kingsley wouldn't have thrown that sentence together haphazardly.

Theo breathed a sigh of relief, unrolling the parchment in front of him, leaning on both elbows to keep it open and read it for himself. Draco took another sip of his drink as his friend spoke. "What good luck charm did you bring into court today?"

Draco felt a strange jolt at those words. It felt like the front pocket of his shirt burned his skin. Hemione's card- he had almost forgotten about it. Damn Theo! He coughed, choking on the firewhiskey, slamming the cup down hard as he turned away.

"What the hell- you actually brought a good luck charm?" Theo stared at Draco incredulously. Then, he gave a bemused grin, pushing the parchment away, folding his arms down in front of his body. "You don't believe in luck- where is it? Let's see!"

"Go to hell," Draco spat irritably, coughing as he struggled to get the words out. He reached in his desk to take out the folders for Theo's apartment and Gringotts vault.

The brown haired man pouted slightly at Draco's refusal to share, but stilled when he saw the folders. "...it's really happening, isn't it…"

Draco was silent. He pushed a quill to Theo, who slowly took the first folder with the Gringotts information. Draco leaned back in his chair, holding his glass with both hands to wait. Theo signed it. The papers vanished in a cloud of green smoke, and a key appeared there instead. Theo pocketed it.

When Theo opened the next folder, his eyes widened. He whistled softly. "I'll be damned…"

Theo placed the folder down, spreading out pictures of an apartment. The entrance faced an open balcony, where you could watch the sun move and see a beautiful sunrise. The furniture was sleek and modern. There was a long fish tank along one wall with a few beautifully colored things swimming inside. Everything about this place was new, down to the light fixtures and shower. The kitchen held a various assortment of gadgets, but the most important was the coffee machine. There was also a closet specifically created for Quidditch broom repair and storage, with a brand new broomstick waiting for him.

Draco had pressed Theo for details about what he wanted in a place if he got out. The responses had been half hearted most of the time. He hadn't believed it would happen, so he didn't want to get his hopes up. Draco took to listening to what Theo didn't say instead.

Sunrise was one thing. Every year at school, Theo had always been the first one awake in the common room. He went out to the astronomy tower long before anyone else was moving, and was back before he could be noticed missing. The sunrise meant something to him, although he'd never told Draco what, or why. Draco would wake most mornings, bleary-eyed, and stumble straight into Theo in the common room. His friend would sit Draco in a chair and hand him a cup of coffee, which Draco would drink while reading through the final chapters of homework, or while staring at the flames of the fire.

Theo hated anything that reminded him of his father. The sleek, modern design of this furniture was a far cry from any of the things found in a traditional, Pure-blood style home. The fish tank Draco hadn't really been sure about. Theo was always staring up at the dome of the things swimming outside the common room ceiling. He hoped that the water was something that Theo would enjoy.

His friend was silent for a long time as he looked at all the pictures. Theo took the quill in hand once more, signing his name. The papers vanished in a cloud of silver smoke this time, and a key sat in their place. This time, he stared at the key for a long moment before reaching out a have to pocket it, too.

Silence stretched for a while. Theo slowly took his drink in hand, leaning back in his own chair.

"...thanks." Theo said quietly, sipping at his drink. Draco silently nodded, then remembered one more thing. He reached in his desk and pulled out a mobile along with instructions on how the damn thing worked, pushing it across the desk to Theo.

"This is already programmed with a few useful numbers. It's replacing some of the communication owls used to do. Not all of it, mind, but enough that you'll need one."

Theo nodded, silent, pocketing that, too. Finally, Draco took the bag the Ministry had left for Theo and pushed it across the table to him. It held a pair of clothes Theo could never wear again, a few trinkets, and his wand. Theo took that in hand, and turned it over a few times before tucking it into his robe. His expression was completely unreadable now. He was processing. Draco knew that look too well. It meant Theo needed to be alone.

Both of them stood. They shook hands firmly, nodding at each other. Without another word, Theo turned and apparated on the spot.

Draco stood there, feeling a strange disbelief that things had gone this way. It was what he wanted. He couldn't believe it.

Before he thought about what he was doing, he had Hemione's card in hand and had sent her a message_. Theo was found innocent. How did you know it was as good as won?_

The reply came quickly and made him smirk. _Who else do you think Kingsley would have checking the validity of your findings? Congratulations on the case. It was excellent work._

"Of course," Draco muttered to himself. He shook his head, unable to stop the smile from spreading across his face. _Would you be interested in meeting up for drinks this evening?_

_I already have plans for tonight. Maybe another night?_

Why did that bother him? Draco frowned slightly. What plans? Could he ask? Would that seem too much? Why did that get under his skin? He didn't really want to think about that. Was she trying to be polite in telling him no, or was she actually interested in getting drinks? Draco hated not being able to see someone's hand-writing. He could read between the lines based on the paper, ink and seal someone chose to use to reply. This digital communication revealed nothing.

As if she had read his mind, a second text came through_. I think I'm free tomorrow evening, if that works for you? Same place?_

Draco felt a strange sensation in his stomach at those words. He recalled the way she had smiled at him when she gave him her card. He enjoyed imagining her reaction to his next text.

_It's a date._


End file.
